Page 114 of Rise of a Fallen Man

We rented a small room in the city and stayed in it for a couple of months. Salas worked nights. And I became Ira again. I restored my identity to join other girls from the orphanage in testifying in court against its management and benefactors. It proved healing to see justice happen for once.

The city had changed in many ways. Neon signs popped up along the major streets. Private cafes and restaurants had opened. In my old school, we only had one classroom equipped with a handful of clunky, gray computers to learn basic programming skills. Now, the internet cafes were everywhere.

Through the internet, Salas had connected with a museum that was looking for a master blacksmith to restore and create a few replicas of swords and daggers for their re-enactment exhibits.

Despite the many positive changes in the country, finding a job was still difficult. For the first two months, I’d spent every day filling in applications for jobs in shops, restaurants, and factories. But even a decade later, it was still all about whom you knew, not what you knew.

Since day one, Salas had been our only provider, which was new to him. He relished being able to support us, but I knew he disliked his job at the nightclub. When the chance came for him to work at the forge again, I sold the jewelry I was wearing when we came from Rorrim. He quit his job, and we rented a small, one-bedroom log house with a workshop on the outskirts of the city.

The project for the museum had opened more doors for Salas. He started getting regular orders from other museums, hobby stores, weapon enthusiasts, and cosplayers from all over the country and beyond.

Things were going so well that instead of wasting my time looking for a job that I couldn’t find, I started taking classes at the university.

The bus dropped me off at the end of our street. My steps grew faster the closer to home I got. Instead of going to the front door, I went straight to the workshop connected to the main house by a short walkway.

Salas had put the fire out already and taken his thick gloves off, but he still had his leather apron on over his navy-blue tank top.

“And there is my princess.” He beamed as I entered. “How was the class?” He opened his arms wide for me, and I ran into them.

His hugs were a true home to me. With his arms around me, it didn’t matter what world we lived in. Salas was my home.

“It was good.” I exhaled, dropping my heavy book bag to the floor and twining my arms around his neck. “But being here with you is so much better.”

I rose on my tiptoes, reaching for a kiss, and he quickly found my lips with his.

The door to the walkway connecting the workshop to the house was open. A delicious smell wafted through it.

“What’s for dinner?”

“Meat pie.”

My mouth watered. “Are you making your famous rabbit pie?”

“No rabbit. Again.” he sighed. “Just chicken. The store didn’t have rabbit meat. It looks like I’ll have to go to the forest to trap some if I ever want to make a rabbit pie in his world.”

I chuckled. “I’m sure chicken is just as good.”

Sliding my hands behind him, I hooked my fingers into the belt of his jeans. I still hadn’t gotten used to the fact that Salas wore jeans now. But he made any clothes look good, including these.

“When is the chicken pie ready?” I asked as he kissed the side of my neck.

“In about ten-fifteen minutes,” he murmured against my skin, cupping my breast through my top. “I have enough time to make you come at least once before dinner.”

“Mmm, best appetizer ever.” I tugged at his apron. “Are you keeping this on?”

He leaned back with a smile.

“Sure.” A spark of humor glistened in his honey-brown eyes. “Just the apron, nothing else. What do you think?”

The sound of someone clearing their throat behind me made me pause.

“Mother?” I turned around to a small stand-up mirror on Salas’s workbench.

I’d brought it here the last time I’d spoken to her and forgot to take it back to the house.

The Queen of Rorrim Queendom stood on the other side of the mirror, dressed in a purple-and-gold evening gown.

“Good evening, daughter,” she said in a formal voice with a quick glance at Salas, who still held me in his arms. “I have a fewminutes before the dinner in honor of the delegation from the Western Islands, and I wished to talk to you.”

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